


Just Coping

by clautchy



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 212 wobble street, Backstory, Cigarettes, Friendship, Mentions of Rape, Swearing, all the cigarettes and swearing, phase 4, wobble street
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clautchy/pseuds/clautchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Russel makes cupcakes, Murdoc has a domestic, and 2D smokes cigarettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Coping

Another domestic. 

Despite the screaming and the shouting coming from the living room, Russel pays no attention and continues on More Pressing Matters: baking _motherfucking cupcakes._ With edible gemstones and pink bow decorations. 

"Taste test?" Russel asks Noodle, holding a fresh cupcake just from the oven. Noodle, older, slender, yet still wonderfully energetic, takes it and bites into it. 

"Delicious!" She beams, bopping up and down in her seat at the dining table. 

(upstairs) _"Go fuck yourself with a cactus, Niccals!"_

Russel sits down opposite her, pushing old newspapers, dirty plates and a full ashtray to the side. Decorating is the best part. He starts by adding the icing, which he's coloured pastel lavender. Noodle discards the iPad to watch on, curiously studying the masterful technique of cupcake decorating Russel believes he has perfected. 

From down the hall, Russel hears the front door open. Soon enough, a red-nosed, wind-swept 2D appears in the kitchen with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Bloody hear 'em from the _street_ ," 2D mutters as he shrugs off his jacket and takes a seat next to Noodle.

"Russ is making cupcakes," Noodle says, pointing. 

"Yeah, and you're going to ruin them with your nasty habit dropping ash all up in my space."

_"Why don't you go back to hell you two-faced rat fuck-"_

2D runs his fingers through his hair, "Folk singer chick, innit?"

Russel shrugs, "Think so. She's been doing most of the yelling. He's all sweet talk up there. But if it goes for a minute longer I might go in there myself."

"But you have to finish the cupcakes first!" Noodle protests. 

"2D, want to do something useful for once and see if you can get the girl out?"

"Out where?"

"Out of the fucking house." Russel refrains from calling 2D an idiot, although he's really tempted to. "And you can get your God damn nicotine addiction out of my face." 

2D glares, "Ey man, I don' complain when you bring in yer weird dead animals an' shit," he stands up, making sure to blow smoke in Russel's face too. Russel gives him the finger and 2D sulks upstairs. 

Despite Russel being the one guy who can actually get Murdoc to shut the fuck up, it's 2D that's given the role of dealing with all and every personal matter. Which, according to 2D, is effin' bullshit to the max. 

In the living room, confirmed it is as Folk Singer Chick. She was some twenty-something who couch-surfed and thought banging Murdoc might get her more publicity. 2D knew that game, but Murdoc wasn't into much of the giving part. She was red-faced, furious, still screaming and hurling insults at him. Murdoc just sat in his chair, taking it like a champ. 

"Sweetie, darling, love, I never _ever_ meant to hurt you."

"Well you did! Because you're a selfish _cunt!"_

2D winced. This was his part. "Hey, Muds..."

Murdoc whipped his head towards him, glowering. "This doesn't fucking concern you, halfwit."

"Oh, so you act nice to me but not to him? You're full of shit!"

2D smokes more of his ciggy. "Come outside an' smoke?" The question is directed at either of them. _Super_ effective.

Folk Singer Chick storms towards 2D. "I've had enough of this bullshit. Give me a fucking cigarette. Get me the fuck out of here. Your friend is a downright cunt."

2D holds out a fresh ciggy for the girl, about to escort her outside. 

"Wasn't a cunt when you were sucking my thick wang, whor-"

She slaps him. Hard. Right on the face. 2D's almost ready to become to punching bag between them, terrified Murdoc's going to snap and leap out at her. But he doesn't. He stares at her, menacingly, but holds himself back. "Get out."

"With pleasure," she holds up her middle finger then storms past 2D. 2D jogs after her, leading her outside with a lighter ready to lend. 

"Ya really shouldn'tve hit 'im," 2D mutters as he lights her ciggy. 

She raises an eyebrow. "I don't care. He deserved it. And it's not like he's a serial woman-beater. Just a serial twat." 

2D finishes his own cigarette and has another, "Yeah, well." He has nothing more to say and with a silent farewell makes his way back inside to Russel and Noodle. 

"We made you a cupcake," Noodle says, holding out a pastel pink cupcake for him. "I put on all the sparkles and the gems."

"Can I eat dat?"

"Yeah man, all good."

2D smiles and thanks his friends. He bites into sugary goodness, his half-smoked cigarette discarded into the overflowing ashtray. 

"Mudsy okay?" Noodle asks quietly.

He doesn't really care about the answer, so he changes the subject altogether. "Done anyfing exciting today?"

"Russ and I worked on some demos. I wrote some lyrics for one that I want you to play with later. _And_ we played Destiny together. Russ is really bad at it."

"You can't say that when I'm a level six and you're a level thirty!" Russ protests immediately. "But yeah man, we'll show you the demos later on. We're mostly experimenting with different beats, you feel?"

"Aw yeah, can't wait t'hear it."

"There's a few high notes though. Think you can handle it? We know you're getting old," Noodle giggles. 

"Oi, cheeky," 2D shakes his head. Russ snickers. 

It's taken a long time since they've been able to do this. Settling down takes time. But through all the shit they've been through, 2D's thankful he's with his family again. 

\---

2D rubs his bruised cheek as Murdoc fumbles for a cigarette. He lights it and takes a deep drag, letting the smoke sit in his lungs, the nicotine immediately claiming his nerves and settling them down. He blows, glaring ahead.

"Shit was tha' for?" 

"Put some frozen peas on your face. Fuck off."

Shouldn't have asked how he made Folk Singer Chick so angry, then.

2D inhales his own cigarette, hating his decision to go for the cheap Winnies. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, screws with his brain a bit too much. It doesn't mean he's not going to finish the pack anyway. He's on forty a day and choosing quality over quantity doesn't cut it these days. He leans on the railing of their small balcony, dropping ash off the side. It's real late, the only view being a light-polluted horizon of London city itself. 

"Dents."

"Wot?"

Murdoc takes another drag of his own ciggy. He's relaxing up a bit, shoulders dropping down, but the nerves are still there. 

"Wot?" 2D repeats himself. Is he going to explain Folk Singer Chick? 

"Don' _fuckin'_ rush me," Murdoc snaps. "Look, Dents. I didn't.... I haven't ever told you why I left me old man."

2D raises an eyebrow, "Didn't ya piss off when you was fifteen or summfink?" 

"Yeah yeah, I sure did," Murdoc mumbles. "A good bloody reason. Almost killed him, I did."

"...Wot?" 

Murdoc leans his arms on the railing too. Cigarette smoke comes from his lips and dissipates into the cool air. "Came home one day, about midnight. Maybe later. Heard the bastard fucking some whore, only this one was screaming her bloody head off. And I mean just fuckin' _wailing._ So I get a peek through the door, and the poor bird's cryin' her damn eyes out while my old man is ramming her backside."

" _Jesus,_ Muds."

"Yeah, and so I go in and pull the girl away. Start laying punches on 'im left an' right. Grab his fucking head and drag 'im out of his room. Something just came over me, y'know. I got the first knife I found in the kitchen and pushed it into him. His shoulder, mind you. Real deep, though. Then I packed my bags then and there, gave the bird some old clothes and got her the hell outta there."

"Is that why..."

" _I'm not fuckin' done_ ," Murdoc snarls. "First, I take the bird to the hospital 'cos her asshole is just fuckin' torn apart. I spend three nights there, just makin' sure she's 'right and the stupid dullards are doing their job. Once they let her go, I stayed with her for three weeks. Nothin' happened, mind. But I just had this deluded idea I had to look after her. Yeah. Me, Murdoc bloody Niccals, making sure this stupid whore was alright."

2D blanks. "Wait, why... you're tellin' me this 'cos...?"

"'Cos I bloody don't go around leavin' battered women behind me!" 

"Right." 2D considers back to earlier today, watching Murdoc take a slap to the face and hold back retaliating. Maybe he wanted to. Maybe he wanted to beat the girl senseless. But he didn't lay a finger on her. He barely raised his voice the entire time. 

So Murdoc refuses to beat up women. Which is nice, 2D supposes. 

"You don't tell anyone 'bout this," Murdoc says, "This shit stays between us. I hate me dad but no one needs to know anything about _that,_ alright, shit-for-brains?" 

2D finishes his ciggy and flicks it over the balcony. He lights another, "I'm jus' sayin', but ya don't need to act like you dun haf feelings."

"Feelings are for tossers, like yourself."

"Sod off. Muds, it's not a bad fing. An', an', is good to get this stuff off ya chest, ey man? 'Cos tha's some effed up shit." 

"I _know_ it's fucked the bloody hell up!" Murdoc pulls at the front of 2D's shirt, yanking him forward. He pulls his fist back and 2D raises his hands in front of him, but Murdoc relents. He lets go, stares ahead, finishes his cigarette. 

"Why don'tcha write a song?" 2D asks quietly. 

Murdoc grimaces, " _My dad raped a prostitute and it forced me to come to grips with my own moral compass_ ," he fake-sings.

"I was finking more, like, not literal."

"Figurative."

"Wotever, mate." 

Murdoc's too lazy, too tired, to make a comeback. He opens the door back into their flat and returns to his bedroom without another word. 2D finishes his second cig in silence, and as he makes his way back to his loft upstairs, can hear the faint twang of a keyboard beyond Murdoc's closed door. 

When you have a dysfunctional family, it's all about finding ways to cope. There's still the arguments, the fights and the occasional outburst, but at least they're coping. It's the best they've done in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> i am assuming considering noodle would be like in her early twenties she can speak pretty damn good english by now. i also imagine her to act a little eccentric. so. yeah. 
> 
> i had a dream and decided to write a small thing on it. i basically just had this idea that murdoc was actually very peculiar about his relationship with women, and was always really serious about consent because it was one thing he didn't want to be like his father with... 
> 
> regardless. just a one shot. might make a few more that are more light-hearted. just for some headcanons about wobble street, as i want all the domestic ideas to come to me.
> 
> AND I AM SORRY I CANNOT WRITE HOW 2D SPEAKS FOR SHIT


End file.
